Living with Mental Health Issues, Stigma and Advocacy.

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Desperate Happiness

Sometimes I feel that being diagnosed as Bipolar is at once the best and worse thing to happen to me. The best because I finally know why I feel the way I do, and sometimes do the things I do. On the downside I can no longer get away with my past behavior of drinking, partying, and causing trouble. I know it sounds selfish. It is.

The last couple of years of my drinking it was weekends only. I would try to jam Monday – Friday into Saturday night. I did a pretty good job. The problem was I didn’t recover until Tuesday.

My best friend was usually with me. People have asked over the years why she never stopped me. She couldn’t. Andre The Giant couldn’t have stopped me. If I wanted to drink and I was upset about something then I was drinking. An example.

I really had feelings for one man. He was not a good man. He had a teardrop tattoo under one eye, he had done 5 years in a Florida Prison, he was also French/Italian, tan, muscled, white teeth, and would rob his own mother. I was mad one night over something to do with him. He came up to me, held my face in his hands and said ” If you drink 1 more drink we’re done. I mean it. I will NOT talk to you anymore.” I stood up, went to the kitchen counter, poured a shot, and drank it. He still talked to me. Where else was he going to get money from?

My best friend worried. Of course she did. But she knew she would be pushing me further away if she said anything. Also most of the time we had fun. We really did. Yes the bad always sticks out more but we did have fun!

Meeting rock bands in crazy ways. The people we met! No one remembers them now. A lot of these meetings I don’t remember! Like Pantera, I wish I remembered that one and forgot Voivod. Winger, Ratt, Slaughter, Black Label Society, White Lion (lead singer was so nice he’ll be happy they’re making Stephen King’s Two Towers into a movie) , Shots at the Rainbow with Lars Ulrich, Greenday, Slayer, Sebastian Bach, there are more but I can’t remember. I called my memory but she wasn’t home.

We also did stupid things together. Haunted houses, dive bars, weird keg parties with a male stripper for the women and a female for the men. Too bad the female had a better mustache than the male and the deck collapsed when the men had to go out on it. No one was hurt. The Haunted House was fun. Freddy Krueger asked me out on a date and Rat Man asked how old I was.

I love horror movies. Haunted Houses and Haunted Fields not so much. My best friend usually leaves with a few bruises and her shirt stretched out from me clutching it. So when Rat Man asked how old I was I screamed “TOO OLD!” and ran. My best friend was laughing and trying not to wet her pants. She finds me hilarious because I dislike the same things she does.

I never laughed harder than I did with her. Drunk or sober. I can still tell her anything without judgment or her wanting anything in return. She knows all my secrets and I mean ALL of them. She loves me anyway. I am the only person she has ever really cried over. She understands without me having to explain over and over. We can go months without talking and pick up where we left off.

She is afraid. She’s seen me try to destroy myself for 20 years. I’ve lied to her more times than I can count. I’ve promised not to drink and then hid in the bathroom with a bottle. She’s come back from the store to find me surrounded by people covered in blood. She’s had to bail me out of the police station after I was arrested for DUI. I’ve put her through a lot. She’s still here. We still laugh. I don’t see her in person much. She lives with her boyfriend and works a lot. When they do have free time they do things with another couple her boyfriend knows. I love her boyfriend. He’s extremely kind. I think both of them care too much to see me backslide. It wouldn’t take much. The wrong comment or look from someone I used to know would probably do it. I have to be honest here I’m not sure what I would do. I would like to think I could handle it. But I’m not sure what I can handle right now.

All I know is when I talk to my sister I feel like I’m in a play. I have to get all my lines right or I’m fired. When I talk to my best friend it doesn’t matter what I say she accepts me as I am. I am thankful for that.